Chihuahua of the Baskervilles Read Online Free PDF Page B

eyelids lowered, and his voice became more guttural. “For thirteen days after I shot wolf, I woke to this sound each night at midnight.” He panted huskily, then gave a rising growl that ended in a sudden, vicious snarl.
    Michael raised a hand to smooth the fine hairs on the back of his neck. “Very authentic.”
    “When visiting foreign country, it helps to know the language.”
    “How did you become Charlotte Baskerville’s trainer?” Angus asked.
    “I came to this country for better opportunities. Got work at a wolf sanctuary.” Ivan frowned. “Sanctuary went away when someone poisoned all the wolves. One thing about Chihuahuas—people don’t think they kill cows.” He smiled wryly. “After wolf sanctuary, I set up dog-training Web site, and Charlotte found me. Her dogs were”—he laughed—“not well behaved. I train them not only to stop barking, but also to hold poses for camera. So she asks me to stay. Sometimes we do tours, events, and I help with those, too.”
    “What would you do if you saw Petey’s ghost?” Angus asked.
    Ivan stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. “If I see ghost, I will tell it to stay, so you can take pictures. All dogs obey Ivan, even dead ones.” He went to the door. “I need cigarette, which means I have to go outside. You want one?”
    “No thank you. I’m an ex-smoker,” Angus said, as he and Michael followed Ivan into the hall. “I do want Suki to get a picture of you with that poster at some point.”
    Ivan gave a sharp nod. “Is no problem.” He closed the door to his room and strolled toward the stairs.
    Angus and Michael returned to the parlor.
    “I hope your recorder got all that, Michael,” Angus said. “What a story!”
    Michael pressed a button and listened for a moment. “Got it. Just remember, that’s probably exactly what it is—a story. He’s not the first Russian I’ve met. Let’s just say they’re prone to exaggeration.”
    “Michael,” Angus chided. “Don’t tell me you’re a bigot as well as a cynic?”
    “All right, forget that he’s Russian. But remember, part of every circus performer’s job is to mislead.”
    “What about the pretty girls on white horses?” Angus asked. “They’re not trying to fool anyone.”
    “They want you to think they’re prettier and younger than they are. Also, those horses are whitewashed.”
    Angus shook his head sadly. “Jesus, Michael, I’d hate to be you.”
    Suki came into the room, carrying a camera on a tripod and followed by Cheri, who looked remarkably old-fashioned in a long black coat worn over a white cotton dress.
    “I got some great shots of Cheri standing in front of the workshop,” Suki said. “I think I’ll make them sepia, to bring out the texture of the stone.”
    Cheri took off her coat and smiled shyly at Suki. “If you need any more, just tell me. I don’t have much to do until we start the next catalog.”
    Suki removed the camera from the tripod. “If you’re serious about photography, now’s a good time to experiment with different backdrops and lighting, or practice your candids and action shots.” She placed the tripod next to the wall.
    Cheri lifted one shoulder. “I guess.” She hugged the coat to her chest. “I should probably put something else on. It’s cold in here.”
    Angus, who had been jotting some notes, looked up sharply. “Regular cold or ghost cold ?”
    Cheri’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God. Do you think there’s a presence in here right now ?”
    “Oh, please,” Michael muttered.
    “Shhh…” Angus held a finger to his lips. In the ensuing quiet, a slight noise could be heard.
    Angus raised his head slowly and studied the ornate light fixture that hung from the ceiling. “It almost sounds like screws unscrewing.”
    Suki looked up from fiddling with her camera. “Why’s everyone so quiet all of a sudden?”
    “That noise,” Cheri whispered. She looked around wildly. “It’s stopped now.”
    Suki lifted the